Just Harry
by KrystalRose18
Summary: Harry's lived a long time, but he's still just one man. Can one unique wizard really make a difference?
1. Chapter 1

They say you only live once, whoever they are they're wrong. Harry had definitely lived more than once according to modern age science. Apparently the common life span for the average human male in this day and age is mid to late seventies, so applied accordingly Harry had lived more than a couple lives.

As the centuries passed by and technology advanced the humans that developed it hadn't changed much. There were nice humans, depressed humans, angry humans, curious humans and apathetic ones as well. Most lived average lives working day and night to give their lives purpose, others waged war and believed that the mindless violence had meaning, and still others searched the world around them looking for an answer to a question they don't know they were trying to answer.

Harry had reached a certain age were he viewed most things from a slightly unique perspective. Hermoine and most of the Weasley clan had believed he was just barmy and his thoughts to random to understand, the twins Fred and George on the other hand had simply patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner and told him he was just Harry.

Just Harry, such a simple sentence yet those words almost made him choke with an unfamiliar emotion. He wished he was just Harry, an average man with a simple family and a normal job to support them, but he wasn't. No, he was Harry The-Boy-Who-Lived-Forever while the people he loved died and went to heaven to live with their families.

Harry paused in his thoughts and considered what that meant for him. He would never see his parents again, his godfather Sirius, his best friends Hermoine and Ron, or the rest of the Weasley clan who had become his adopted family. Even after so many years a sob tore through Harry's chest at the hopelessness he felt from his situation. Tears trailing down his pale and hallowed cheeks Harry gazed at the small town in front of him from the edges of one of the few remaining forest that survived in the technology dependent world. Wide pools of emerald watched from behind a small pair of spectacles as the people went about their everyday routines getting chores done and watching over their children.

It was useless, those children wouldn't live long if they survived to adulthood. The Earth was dieing, the balance between magic and technology had been all but destroyed. Technology wasn't meant to develop beyond a certain point, it was meant to stop developing when the creatures on Mother Earth who couldn't interact with her had acquired the means to survive semi-comfortably.

As Harry had witnessed unfortunately, the muggles just continued to advance their so called knowledge and developed even more pollutants and destructive machines the likes of which Mother Earth could never heal from. The magical inhabitants that were meant to protect her if such were happening became so overwhelmed with their fear of detection and immediate extinction that they spread far from one another and slowly perished in their hideaways.

Only Harry was left now.


	2. Chapter 2

The average Thursday morning in Little Whinging included a misty fog, cloudy sky, and a dewy lawn. This particular Thursday morning was a bit peculiar in that it was the exact opposite, the sky was blue with a few white fluffy clouds and the sun was shining brightly.

The change in pace didn't bother the resident wizard all to much, in fact it put him in a rather happy mood truth be told. Wearing knitted sweaters that seemed a little snug and ill fitting for the seemly mature adult and jeans three times his size only held up by a worn out belt Harry was a very strange neighbor. Such an eccentric man obviously had a few screws loose and wasn't to be associated with according to the nosey gossips.

Their whispers didn't bother him at all as he lightly whistled a tune he remembered Fawkes singing once when he was visiting Professor Dumbledore. He really didn't care about their questioning whispers wondering why he always wore a sweater even in the summer, or why he never bought new jeans that would fit him more appropriately. It was none of their business and even if it was Harry wouldn't talk about it anyway.

The sweaters were the Christmas gifts that Molly Weasley always sent to him when she was still living. The care and love she had put into making them was a magic in itself, and her sweaters responded to that magic by resisting natural elements that could destroy them. That's not to say that the sweaters couldn't be ripped or burned, but bugs wouldn't chew holes into them and substances like bleach wouldn't ruin the color or designs.

Unfortunately while Harry treasured the sweaters Molly had hand knitted for him it was true that most of them were made a little to small and all of them had childish images stitched into them. It seemed that Molly had never really stopped seeing Harry as the wide eyed child she had first met at the Hogwarts Express, so all of the sweaters he received had either Quidditch related images or magical creatures sown on them.

While the sweaters were a part of Harry's past he treasured and loved the jeans were a different story. Ironically the hand-me-down clothes meant to cruelly remind Harry that he was unwanted and a burden to his family had survived longer than all his other clothes excepting the sweaters. It came as a surprise to his surrogate family when he refused to throw them away when he first escaped from his relatives, in fact it had surprised Harry as well.

At first he didn't understand why he felt like he needed those pants, but as the years passed he realized that those jeans reminded him of the harsher truths of the world. Whenever he started to take for granted the fact he could eat three meals a day and sleep in a warm fluffy bed not worrying about the world around him the jeans would be there in the corner of his closet, a silent reminder to be grateful and to help others he met that didn't have such privilege.

Casting his thoughts and memories aside for another time Harry paused in the middle of his morning chore. Gardening was a relaxing pastime for Harry and he rather enjoyed seeing the blooming flowers that were the fruits of his labors, but as he was weeding around his lilies and morning glories a stuttering of his magic shocked him into stillness.

How long had it been since Harry had felt the whisperings of his magic? With no magical society left to inspire him Harry had stopped using his magic a few centuries back. There was no towering red headed man to laugh with him when he accidentally transfigured his nose into the trunk of an elephant while trying to learn a new spell. Or a bushy haired brunette know-it-all to help him fix his mistake when he ended up making it worse while attempting to fix his first error.

As the years continued on Harry's continued existence was his only proof that the magical world and family he remembered had actually been real and not figments of his mind. The shock he felt from his magic was a surprise and mystery. Harry hadn't consciously moved his magic yet even now it was stuttering and swirling around inside of him as if something important was happening.

Snapping out of his shock Harry jumped to his feet and raced into his house. Not knowing how he knew Harry was sure that if he didn't gather his most precious possessions now then he would never see them again. Not questioning his sudden knowledge Harry leapt up the stairs and burst through the door of number four, Privet Drives' smallest bedroom.

Gathering all of his sweaters and jeans Harry placed them in a small bag and for the first time in three centuries used his magic to shrink the bag. Unfortunately because he was no longer used to using it his magic reacted strangely when called upon. He had intended to shrink the bag down to the size of his palm and stuff it into his pocket, instead the bag became the size of a marble.

Not terribly surprised by the outcome of his first spell in centuries Harry ignored its not complete success and tightened his grip on it knowing there were quite a few holes in his jeans that the bag could now fall through. Crouching down next to his bed Harry worked at a loose floor board until it opened with a crunch.

Underneath he found a small hand bag. It was pink with small gems decorating it, all in all rather girly and feminine, but for such a small thing it held everything Harry treasured deep in his heart. Grabbing it quickly Harry carefully opened it and placed his marble sized bag into it, just as carefully as he opened it he also closed it.

Just as Harry finished placing the long strap of the purse diagonally across his chest he felt his magic burst out of him. It was like a giant wave of pure magic and intent washed over him and Harry was helpless as he felt the familiar hooking in his navel indicating he was being transported far away from his current location.

All Harry could think afterwards was that he should have known something was going to happen. After all Mad Eye always told him if he didn't have "Constant Vigilance!" that it would come back to bite him in the ass.

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**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I got a question about Harry developing a relationship with Tsu'tey, truthfully I haven't decided yet. I like Tsu'tey and Harry fanfics its true, but I was considering some of the other characters. There aren't very many fics that have a different pairing. **

**It'll take a while for my story to get to the relationship stage, but I would love some opinions about the pairing. On that note the pairing will definitely be yaoi, MM, etc.**


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't uncommon anymore for the creatures of Pandora to see alien beings appear from the sky. In fact it was rather common to see giant bulky _things _cutting through the air as if they owned the sky, and later seeing small pink monsters exit the _things _and walk through the forests killing anything that challenged them for intruding upon territory that wasn't theirs.

Whatever these beings were they were obviously insane and dangerous. Anything stupid enough to mess with them now after seeing how easily they killed others for no reason deserved to die, at least that was what the beings themselves seemed to believe.

What was uncommon to the population on Pandora was the appearance of yet another sky person, only this one didn't come from the sky. It appeared in a flash of bright light at the bottom of the resident prolemuris mating tree. Incensed by the intrusion on their sacred tree yet fearful of death if they retaliated against the creature the prolemuris clan settled for screeching their lungs out until the small sky person decided to leave, and hopefully never come back.

It was rather unfortunate that the sky person the resident "alien monkeys", as the RDA military forces called them, were terrorizing was none other than one Harry Potter. Instead of waking peacefully in his bed to find that he had hallucinated the entire episode in his garden, he instead awoke to an ear shattering symphony of screeches.

Jerking immediately into a fetal position with his hands jamming his ears into his skull Harry cracked his eyelids open in an effort to locate the source of his agony. Ignoring the giant trees and bizarre plants at the moment Harry tilted his head up and then had to do it again to see some kind of strange reptilian monkeys yelling at him.

Confused and very nervous of the howling creatures Harry decided that the only course of action available to him at the moment was fleeing. Staggering to his feet Harry lowered his left hand to make sure his handbag was still attached to him and secure. Regretting the action immediately Harry found out two things. The first was that he still had the handbag. The second was that those little shits could make the tone deaf ghosts that used to inhabit Hogwarts cry for mercy.

Taking hold of his purse Harry sprinted away from that tree like the harpies from hell were after him, which wasn't too far from the truth if you asked him. It took a few minutes for Harry to get a reasonable amount of distance between himself and the awful noise, but as the sound became indistinguishable among the other noises of the forest Harry began to slow to a walk.

Now standing still with no distractions Harry began to slowly process what he was seeing before and around him. It was some kind of magical forest, it wasn't like the woods in Surrey which Harry had called a forest. That place had a few withered oaks and pine trees barely standing at twenty feet in the air, the few plants that could be found around those trees usually gave Harry the itchiest rashes or cut thin slices from his skin almost as if in an attempt to defend the last of natures babies from him.

This forest was not that forest. These trees easily towered at fifty feet minimum and eighty at the average. All of the trees themselves seemed to be interwoven with each other as their branches twirled around each other and dipped to meet still other fellow branches. If Harry had to describe the trees surrounding him at the moment he would have used the word network to explain it, there really didn't seem like any other way to put it.

The plants in this forest were huge, some were even bigger than Harry himself! Not that that was really saying much, at a measly five foot eight Harry didn't exactly consider himself the tallest giant in the cave as Hagrid used to say. Some of the plants looked like giant flowers colored a neon purplish color with a hint of blue, others reminded Harry of big green ferns. All of the planets looked alive in Harry's opinion though, they looked almost as if they were going to rip their roots right out from the ground and transform into the mystical wood nymphs Luna had always told Harry about.

While the wildlife itself was magical the animals living in it were just as unique. None of them looked like the native animals Harry was used to seeing, nor like the magical ones he had a chance of seeing when he was young. The creatures looked almost like a mixture of animals he knew about with a few extra limbs added just to puzzle him about their uses.

As Harry looked about he recognized a few of the reptilian monkeys he had seen before. Their faces were structured in a bat like fashion, the only deference being the monkey eyes and miniature cow ears. Their bodies had the shape of a monkey but the arms split into two sets for each side with three fingers. They had blue torsos, yellow legs, a pattern of the opposite color decorated the other side unique for each monkey. The last thing Harry noted about them other than their tails was that none of them seemed to have any hair on their bodies.

"Its beautiful.."

The words seemed to come out of Harry's mouth without permission. Spoken in a soft whisper from a throat that seemed unused to forming complex sounds, Harry spoke the first two words he had since the last of his surrogate family died.

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**A/N:Thank You Psych-Induced Chaos! Anyone who was waiting impatiently for my update can thank Psych as well. I was having difficulties updating my story, but I recieved an email that really lifted my spirits. I hope everyone enjoyed chapters two and three.**


	4. Chapter 4

It is an unfortunate well known truth that life can be both cruel and unforgiving. For Harry Potter it was doubly true, so when he experienced complete and utter happiness he was loath to release it.

The new world around him was alive and teeming with a power that Harry couldn't explain or understand. The power or presence seemed to be everywhere around him, but he couldn't see or hear it. If he concentrated enough Harry could almost feel it though, it was like a cat rubbing against him to mark its territory. The best part about the presence in Harry's foggy mind was the way it seemed to fill his magical core.

It was almost an erotic feeling that was controlling him, complete and utter euphoria. He felt full, like an empty glass that had just been completely filled with high grade alcohol. It was hard to think, hard to understand what was going on around him. Wasn't he supposed to be doing something? Whatever it was it probably wasn't important anyway.

Standing in the new world he had appeared in unceremoniously Harry could be described as completely high. What had caused him to become that way was unclear, but whatever the source of it was it wasn't strong enough to keep him that way for long.

Harry Potter had survived many terrible and unfortunate encounters in his life. In every situation Harry could think and rationalize, he may have followed his gut instincts and emotions most of the time but he was clearheaded the entire time. Fortunately for Harry occasionally he had fate and lady magic on his side to help him through the trials in his long lived life where he didn't use his head.

In his present situation Harry had lady magic to thank for giving him a special gift. Harry could get slightly drunk if he drank alcohol, but he had learned early on in his life that he wouldn't stay that way for more than a few minutes. The same applied for when he was drugged or whenever he sustained any type of thought impairing aliment Harry's magic would "Cure it".

It wasn't necessarily a good thing either. It also applied for drugs meant to numb pain or anti-depressants, Harry couldn't use either of them because they interfered with his mind clouding it. Bloody stupid gift to have when one is feeling suicidal from the pain of multiple broken bones that can't be numbed.

Breathing deeply Harry calmed himself as he felt his magic sweep away the fog clouding his mind. It was a normal feeling to Harry, having his magic clear his thoughts of any impurities. It was about the only time Harry felt his magic in the last few centuries, even then he didn't consciously decide to use his magic it kind of decided to use itself.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the lingering fog Harry took in his situation. At the moment from what he could tell he was in some kind of magical forest with magical looking creatures. While being in the forest was all, well, fine and good, the fact that he had no idea how he appeared there was none of those things.

The good news about his situation so far was that he hadn't been attacked yet. If any of the lessons Hagrid had taught him in Hogwarts had truly sunk in, the unintentional one had stuck. The lesson? No creature was a harmless creature, no matter what Hagrid said about that three headed dog he had never believed for one second that the thing wouldn't chew his head off if he got too close.

Some more good news came from peaceful plants. At this point Harry hadn't decided if the plants were harmless or if they had decided he was too stupid to hurt them. Harry was leaning toward the latter, the giant hulking flower that remarkably reminded him of the sorting hat looked like it was about to spit venom at him.

'Best not to test that one.'

With that thought in mind Harry took a few steps away from the supposedly ill-tempered plant and continued his thought process.

The bad news for his situation was his increasing hunger. Unfortunately Harry hadn't time to eat breakfast before being magically transported, so currently he was feeling a bit famished. He didn't recognize any of the plants around him so eating anything from them was a big "Do Not".

Coming to the conclusion that feeding himself was the most important thing to do at the moment, Harry decided that it was time to venture out into the forest looking for food. It may not be the safest choice, but it was better than starving at least. It wasn't like anyone was coming to rescue him and besides.

'What was the worst that could happen?'

It really was a speak of the devil and he shall appear moment, because right after that thought the ill-tempered plant mentioned before decided that it really didn't like Harry's face. Looking up from his thoughts Harry didn't have any time to do anything but gape at the plant as it spewed black gunk all over him.

As it straightened up from its bent over position the plant that look like the Hogwarts sorting hat almost looked smug. Now covered in sticky, smelly, not to mention itchy black plant throw up Harry looked like an over sized rat. Even his glasses were covered in the stuff, given the situation Harry didn't think anyone would blame him for telling the plant exactly what he thought of it.

"You're a slimy git."

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**A/N: That's chapter three folks! I know that this chapter is short and that many readers wanted me to jump right into the story, but this chapter is actually very important to the story.**

**On another note for those who wanted a M/F fic this is a reminder that this will be slash. If you don't like it don't read.**

**Also I have yet to decided the pairing for this fic. Suggestions are more than welcome and appreciated. If I get enough input I'll start a poll. If not, well I guess I'll just go on a dream quest like Jake did. Only hopefully I'll find the pairing for this fic and not a giant sky demon about to eat me. ;)**

**I'll try and have chapter four up soon! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

If someone were to ask Harry Potter what he was thinking at the moment the answer would be a little shocking. At the moment he was thinking of multiple ways to set the smirking plant in front of him on fire. Not the most heroic thoughts the once savior of the wizarding world had ever thought, but there they were.

Harry wasn't a hero or savior anymore. What kind of hero failed to protect the world he cared about when it really needed him? He did obviously, back then he was so young and scared of making everything worse that he really didn't do anything.

He wasn't willing to involve any of his people in the efforts he was making to stop muggles from destroying the earth. He didn't listen to his friends when they asked him the most important question in their situation.

What if the problem couldn't be resolved peacefully?

At the time the war had been fresh in his mind, easily summoned by the mere mention of violence of any kind. It had hurt him when his friends mentioned the possibility. He had shouted at them more angered than he could ever remember being, reminding them of all the loved ones they had lost.

He had bulldozed over Hermione's attempted logic's of the war by reminding her of all the innocent children that had gotten involved only because they were related to the dark side. He had informed her that it would be the same if they started another war when they really didn't have to.

His friends had become angry with him, but they understood him more than anyone else in the world. They didn't argue with him anymore after that, and when the muggles seemingly came to a stop in their misguided efforts to kill the planet they accepted what Harry had said before and decided they had been mistaken.

His friends had been right, but they had died of old age thinking he had been correct all along.

When the muggles started to ravage the world once more it had been almost a century since they stopped. The children born into the wizarding world since that time had been raised to believe in peace and reject any form of violence, just as their hero Harry Potter had done.

Realizing his mistakes Harry had attempted to take his friends advice long after they had been buried. It was no use though the wizarding world wouldn't hear his pleads, often liking him to an old warmonger they just ignored him and let the situation get completely uncontrollable.

It was his fault in the end, he hadn't listened to his surrogate family or his best friends. Karma was his reward when the wizarding world wouldn't listen to him.

After that there was nothing he could do, it was almost like he didn't belong in the world but since he was there the only thing he could do was watch.

He had cried bitter tears when the last of the magical world had died and cursed every muggle for their part in it.

What kind of hero would curse an innocent person? Not all muggles were evil or power hungry. Some of the muggles had fought just as hard as he had maybe even harder to save the planet. When his heart had stopped hurting so much Harry had remembered this, he was sure that they cried tears just as bitter as his when they failed.

Magic was a powerful thing and curses shouldn't be played around with. Once he realized what he had done Harry had immediately rescinded his curse and prayed that no one had gotten hurt by it. It was too late though his magic had responded to his agonized cries and lashed out at the beings who had caused his pain.

His curse had been unfocused and without purpose, so it had been dormant for a few decades before it took shape. It became an Imperius spell, and without a caster to direct it basically ran out of control. In the end before he could stop it there had been a war in Venezuela.

A lot of muggles had died because of him, instead of being happy that they had lost so many like he had he felt self loathing. Many of those people had lost their lives for no reason and many others would have to live ruined lives because they witnessed war.

They were innocent people who didn't know any better and he had punished them for crimes they hadn't committed. Once more he cried bitter tears, but this time no curses or words of any kind escaped his mouth. He had learned his lesson, if he could speak curses as easily as he pleased then he could just as easily not speak at all.

Harry took those words to heart and for the next two centuries continued his vow of silence without breaking it once.

Now in this forest he had broken that vow twice in one day, no wonder the damn plant was smirking. It wasn't every plant that could boast about making Harry Potter break a vow he made two centuries before. The thing was practically twitching with happiness at the moment and Harry couldn't help but admire the plants audacity.

Picking up his goo covered glasses from the end of his nose Harry calmly folded them and tucked them into the v of his sweater, a little more goo wouldn't hurt them. Being covered in this goop wasn't on Harry's top ten "What I want to be covered in" list, but taking out another pair of clothes when his hands were also covered in it would just ruin them.

He very much doubted that the plant would allow him to wipe off his hands on it, probably just spit up on him again in retaliation. On the other hand if this plant threw black goo on people, what would the other plants around him do if he got to close? Yes, best not to wipe his hands on any form of plant at the moment. Never know when one might decide that it too didn't like Harry's face and throw up acid all over him, not a very pleasant thought.

Harry would have attempted an Aguamenti spell to wash off with if he wasn't so afraid of it accidentally going wrong and turning into a permanent sticking charm. He could just imagine walking around as a black goo monster for the rest of his life.

No it would be a better idea to look for a stream or river of some sort near by. Taking that thought into account Harry glanced down at his pink purse, which was remarkably the only thing not covered in black tar, making sure it was secure without touching it. Harry wouldn't put it past Hermione to charm the purse to expel rabid birds if someone touched it with dirty hands.

Seeing that it was as secure as it could be Harry turned in a complete circle and decided that he had no idea which way to go. Looking at the plant once more Harry came to a quick decision, any direction opposite of the smirking plant was the right direction. Turning a one-eighty from the plant Harry started to pace away from it. Just before he lost sight of the plant that looked like the Hogwarts sorting hat he gave it a one fingered salute.

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**A/N: I'm working on chapter six right now. I'm really excited, the next chapter is were things get interesting!**

**I wonder if anyone noticed the little tid bit of information I put into this chapter? If you did your probably wondering how I'm going to use it. I always did love a good mystery!**

**Tell me what you think!**

**Till next time! ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

For the last hour and a half one Harry Potter had tripped his way through the forest only to meet a dead end. Obviously his theory on direction via irritating plant was very wrong, not to mention a big waste of his time.

After an extensive hike through the forest, which consisted of jumping over suspicious green fuzzy logs and tip toeing over thick slippery vines made just to help him plummet to his death Harry was tired, irritated, scratchy for some reason, and very insulted by the time he reached the cliff in front of him.

His first three aliments could easily be blamed on the trip itself, the insulted pride could be blamed on one of the inhabitants of the forest.

As Harry had been traveling through the forest he had ignored the strange absence of wildlife and concentrated on the fact that every time he took a step the ground lit up in a neon flash. So when a monster the size of a small house appeared in front of him needless to say Harry was both shocked and terrified.

The beast had appeared from the trees, jumping from one branch to the next like a demented Crookshanks on a catnip high. When it landed on the ground in the same place as Harry's head used to be Harry, who would deny it vigorously later, screamed like a little girl and jumped behind the biggest boulder he could find.

Scared out of his mind but used to such situations Harry had then peaked around the rock to get a good view of the predator. It looked like some sort of crossbreed, maybe between a panther and a thestral. Whatever it was the thing was obviously in the mood for Harry on a stick.

Gathering his courage Harry jumped from behind the rock and summoned his magic to perform a Reducto spell.

What was supposed to blast either a hole into the beast or blow the beast away, instead produced a different effect. Suddenly Harry started glowing a bright green, sort of like he had been turned into a lantern.

Horrified with the unexpected turn his spell had taken Harry could only wait with a sense of hopelessness as the creature appeared in front of his face. Knowing he was going to die Harry couldn't help but close his eyes and pray for a miracle.

The beast had then taken a deep breath through its nostrils, probably to prepare itself for a big chomp of its jaws, and the reared back as if struck by the most horrible smell it had ever encountered.

Eyes now wide open Harry could only gape in complete confusion as the "feline" proceeded to drag its nose through everything around it, obviously trying to rid itself of the terrible smell it had still in its nose. When that course of action failed miserably the beast then proceeded to flee as far from Harry as it could get, tearing defenseless flora apart in its haste to further the distance quickly.

Both relieved and confused about what happened Harry had proceeded on his hike, only this time he made sure to pay attention to his surroundings. He discovered quickly he needn't bother, the inhabitants were more than willing to show him why he hadn't been eaten. When the strange howler monkeys all upturned their noses and then proceeded to stuff their nostrils with their extra digits, even Harry couldn't ignore what they were all silently saying.

These forest dwellers were obviously saying that he stunk, and the worst part was Harry had the strongest suspicion that half of them were laughing at his plight!

It was the most humiliating hour and a half of Harry's four centuries of life!

The worst part was Harry was still glowing a dark green color. He had tried multiple times to cast Finite Incantantem each time producing absolutely no effect, at least nothing worse had happened when he cast the spell, like the glow turning a purple color. If that had happened Harry would never be able to convince anyone he came across that he wasn't a transvestite.

Thanking god for small miracles Harry looked at the cliff in front of him. It was at least sixty feet high and Harry didn't see very many points that could be used to climb it. Deciding it would be too much of a hassle Harry turned around to find another way around the cliff when he heard something he hadn't heard in two centuries.

It was gunfire and the sound of screams.

Eyes wide open in recognition and horror Harry pivoted on his heel when he recognized a less familiar pitch in the screams.

"Children!" He whispered in a small terrified voice.

While Harry may not consider himself a hero or savior, he was a something. Whatever that something was it would never ignore the cries of a defenseless child. Gripped with a terrible need to help the children obviously screaming for help even if it was in a language he didn't recognize Harry's hands flew to his pink purse.

Ignoring the pain and smell of his burnt flesh as the purse fought against his dirty hands Harry successfully tore it open and reached for something he had kept a secret from everyone he had ever loved.

The Elder Wand.

Harry had lied about its destruction, while he had attempted to snap the wand he soon discovered that it couldn't be destroyed physically. Knowing that the world couldn't know of its continued existence Harry lied to his friends, surrogate family, and the wizarding community by telling them he had repaired his wand with it then snapped it in half ridding the world of it forever. They had believed him, and Harry had fooled himself by thinking it would soon be true once he found a magical way to destroy it.

There was no way to destroy the wand. Soon after discovering this Harry had hid it away in his purse and then hid it in a secured location in his house, depending on where he lived at times it varied.

While his original wand still worked as well as it did the first day he got it, even it was prone to mess up when he attempted certain spells. Right now with how his magic had been reacting strangely every time he used it Harry wasn't taking anymore chances on mistakes happening.

Casting a Feather Light charm on his body Harry raced to the cliff-side and proceeded to climb as quickly as he could. Made easier by his lightened weight Harry's ascension to the top of the cliff was increased dramatically and his chances of falling minimal.

While it was faster it still took time and with every scream that stopped mid-pitch Harry's hope for the children plummeted faster. Cursing his inability to apparate Harry increased his speed as much as he could.

Sending a prayer of thanks when he reached the top Harry gained his bearings and tore through the forest in the direction of receding gunfire.

The screams had stopped.

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**A/N: Its getting interesting hmm? I've left a few more "tid bits" of information in this chapter and a few plot developments. **

**The Elder Wand, cliche and obvious right? *Giggle* Maybe..maybe not, we'll see soon right?**

**A few were wondering when Harry would encounter another character, good news is it will be the next chapter. Bad news you may not like it, I'm sure many know exactly what Harry's about to see. **

**On another note I do work five out of seven days a week, I'll update as soon as I can but most days when I get home from work I'm too tired to type. Worry not though I know where my story is going and have panned out most of the finner details, its all a matter of writing it down and then typing it. **

**I hope everyone enjoys Chapter six!**

**Till next time! ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

To Harry tearing through the forest was a test on patience, not stamina. His body wasn't made to run at full sprint for more than five minutes, but the time he was wasting avoiding the surrounding flora was killing any hope he had left of saving any of the children.

It was torture to his nerve endings when Harry gave up on caring on his well-being. His skin being slashed by razor thin leaves and bruises forming from bouncing off surrounding trees, all Harry could pay attention to was the silence.

The gunfire had ceased.

'No!'

The denial echoed through his mind, refusing the truth. Unable to accept what he already knew Harry locked away his fears and ran even faster through the maze of trees and bushes.

When Harry finally reached the epicenter that held his fears he could only stand in horror for the first few moments.

He had entered into a small break in the trees, and in it there was what could only be described as a wooden hut. It was the size of a small house with large rectangular windows unframed running along the walls. It would have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been infested with bullet holes everywhere.

Slowly coming out of his shock Harry noticed that the owners of the guns he had heard were obviously gone, probably in the direction of the destroyed trees if he had to guess which way.

Relieved that the threat was away for the moment Harry started to search for the children he heard screaming before.

Jumping over a thin branch while searching the ground around him Harry paused when he caught a blue foot in his peripheral vision. Turning too quickly Harry winced when his neck muscles started to cramp up in protest. Again ignoring his pain Harry stepped lightly, not noticing he had yet to undo his Feather Light charm, toward the young humanoid creature he had just discovered.

Finally coming to a stop mere inches from the obviously female creature Harry didn't try to stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Shaking and trembling with grief Harry cried as he bent over the poor girls head on his knees hoping to find even a small sign of life.

The little girl was very young looking, with a soft face and petite frame. She wasn't a human child though, so while she looked small for whatever her species was she was actually bigger than Harry was. At least seven feet tall her frame was very skinny, almost like she didn't get enough to eat or she was starved.

She also had light blue skin with faint strips running across almost all of it, Harry likened her skin with the fur of the tigers he had gotten a brief glimpse of on his cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday. Her skin was just as beautiful as their fur had been, maybe even more so.

Crying even harder now Harry couldn't help but wonder who would kill an innocent child like this, and in such a brutal manner. The little girl's torso was riddled with bullets, most of them hadn't broken through to the other side of her chest.

Curled up into a fetal position the girls face was scrunched up in fear, obviously the girl knew she was about to die and tried to protect herself from the pain she knew was coming.

Sobbing in anguish and gasping to fill his lungs with much needed air Harry reached out a trembling hand to brush away the girls long black hair which had been covering her eyes. Shaking even harder Harry stared into the girls wide open eyes, which were glazed over in death.

Her eyes were big and filled up most of her face, her irises were so large that Harry could barley see the whites of her eyes. She also had a large feline nose, again reminding him of the majestic tigers he had once encountered. All of her face was covered in small freckles, they glowed like stars in the night sky.

As Harry was gazing at the little girl he noticed her surprising lack of clothing, the only thing she had covered was her crotch.

Shaking with rage Harry's first conclusion on her lack of covering was rape. The vile creatures who had killed her had hurt her in a way he would never forgive them for, but as he looked around her body hoping to find the leftovers of her clothes so that he could give her some decency after death he noticed that there were no ripped clothes in the surrounding area.

Now weeping in relief Harry could only thank whatever higher power there was for saving her from that fate. Bringing his index and middle finger up to her eyes Harry gently closed them praying that she received a peaceful afterlife.

Standing from the girls body Harry continued his search for surviving children repeating the ritual he had performed on the little girl for each dead child he came across, noting that each shared tall frames, feline features, long dark hair, strips on their blue skin, severe lack of clothing, long tails with tufts of hair on the end, and three fingers for each hand.

All the children he found outside of the hut were dead.

Numb with horror Harry took his first step into the hut hoping that he would have more success than he had outside of it. The first things Harry's emerald gaze noticed were the letters of the alphabet decorating a cracked chalk board. It was the English alphabet, there were both lower case letters and uppercase letters all of them written in a neat script designed to help young children memorize their studies.

This hut was some kind of school.

Taking a deep breath to organize his thoughts Harry immediately regretted it as the smell of death and blood was more intense in this closed environment. Refusing to throw up on the floor of the once happy school, as depicted by the colorful drawings Harry could see hanging everywhere, Harry paced across the floor and around desks looking for bodies.

As Harry neared the front of the room were the chalk board resided He noticed a small wheezing sound coming from a large desk, probably used by the teacher. Increasing his speed Harry came around to the back of the desk with a small flame of hope burning in his chest.

There on the ground behind the desk were four figures. The wheezing figure was another little girl bent over the body of an older looking female, the girl was obviously panicking over the other girls stomach wound.

The older girl was still alive, but she was delirious and looked to be dieing a slow painful death. She was begging in a foreign tongue Harry had never heard before, and he didn't know any spells on language translation. Hermione had once tried to teach him one so that they could go holidaying in France, but Harry had only succeeded in getting his tongue to tie itself into a knot. She gave up teaching him that spell after he almost cut his tongue off when he got frustrated and mispronounced some of the vowels.

Unsure about his presence in this situation but unwilling to let the older girl die without at least trying to save her Harry spoke in the calmest voice he could muster and held his hands up in surrender.

"Please! Let me help her." He spoke in a rough voice unused to forming sounds any longer.

The younger girl whirled around in fright probably recognizing the language he used and paused before she could scream.

Harry was surprised, he had assumed the girl would either scream in terror because he looked like the muggles who attacked her or attack him for revenge of her fallen classmates, Harry had prepared a Leg-Locker curse in case it was the later.

Instead she looked like she didn't know what he was. Glancing down at himself Harry realized he was still covered in the black tar and had a green outline glowing around his form. Now that he was standing still the Feather Light charm had the adverse effect of making him float about two inches off the ground.

Combine all this together with Harry's bloodshot eyes from where he had been crying, it was no surprise that the girl looked like she was looking at a ghost.

Deciding to use his previous misfortunes to his advantage Harry inflected his next words and those following them with a bit of Parseltongue to add to his otherworldly appearance.

"I can help her if you let me near. She will die if you don't!" He spoke in a harsh tone conveying the seriousness of the situation, hoping to make the girl understand that there wasn't much time.

Clearly nervous in his presence, but no longer scared out of her mind the girl was seemingly convinced that Harry wasn't human but confused at his use of their language.

"She's my sister! She can't die! I need her!" The girl was now crying in grief as she spoke in broken English.

Her emotional trauma had finally taken hold and the little girl fell down in a dead faint. Catching her before she could hit her head on the floor and further injure herself Harry gently laid the girl on her side and patted her on the head, more for his reassurance than hers.

Now kneeling beside the dieing girl Harry contemplated what he could do to save her. He could gently summon the bullet in her stomach out and apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but their was no way of telling if she would bleed to death before he could stop the bleeding.

Knowing of no other way to save her Harry dug into his purse hoping Hermione had put something in it that could save her.

Reaching the end of his patience Harry was ready to try his original plan knowing every second wasted meant the girls chances of surviving decreased even further, when his fingers touched a single vial.

Pulling his hand back with the vial Harry read the sticker name Hermione had put on it.

Blood-Replenishing.

Heart leaping with joy Harry praised every deity he had ever heard of for giving him a genius for a friend like Hermione.

With this potion the blood the girl had lost already and would lose when Harry started his amateur surgery would be reformed like it had not fallen out of her body to begin with.

Needing a clothe to apply pressure with after he had removed the bullet Harry looked around for ones cleaner than the ones he was currently wearing. Seeing as the two girls themselves weren't really clothed in much, though they were more clothed than all of the other children if only a little, Harry turned to the other two figures lying next to them.

The first one he noticed was a younger male, maybe around the same age as the little girl. It looked like the boy was out cold, not dead or dying if his steady breathing could be believed. Seeing as the boy wasn't dying or wearing much Harry only spent enough time looking at him to notice the fierce scowl the boy wore on his face, truly a boy trying to grow up to fast in Harry's mind.

Turning to the second figure Harry saw what had to be the schools teacher. Shot in the shoulder the woman had probably fainted from shock soon after, the surprised look still gracing her face seemed to support his theory. Luckily she didn't look like she was dieing and the bullet seemed to have pass right through to the other side.

The woman was holding some ripped clothe to the wound itself, so she probably had some knowledge in healing. If Harry wasn't so sure that the woman wouldn't be fooled by his appearance like the little girl he probably would have revived her and asked her to help him with the girl.

Taking a hold of the woman's already ripped shirt Harry proceeded to follow in her example and ripped another part off for the older girl.

Turning away from the two figures and ignoring the little girl Harry started his operation. Focusing on nothing else he worked on the older girl for almost two hours, about half-way through the younger awoke but had kept silent and watchful after she saw what he was doing.

Finally when the older girl looked stable, meaning she was no longer bleeding to death and all of Harry's potion had been completely used up, Harry leaned back and wiped his bangs away from his forehead.

Hearing a sharp gasp Harry's gaze snapped to the little girl who was now looking at his old scar. Curious about what the girl found so fascinating about an old scar Harry chalked it down to her youth. Most kids her age thought scars were "cool" for some reason, it was bloody weird how some kids actually squealed in happiness when they found a new scar on their body.

The girl seemed to realize that she was staring and promptly her cheeks turned a faint purple color. Obviously embarrassed by her rudeness the girl started to stare at the floor and immediately looked up when she spotted some of her sisters blood.

Seeing the tears starting to fill her eyes Harry reached for the girl who was both bigger and taller than he was and promptly pulled her into his lap and started to hum a song he remembered Fawkes used to sing in the great hall during suppertime.

When the girl was calm again and seemed about to slip into sleep Harry roused her enough to ask for her name.

"Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, but you may call me Neytiri. My sister is called Sylwanin te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, I just call her Sylwanin."

Neytiri seemed to be happier when she was thinking about something other than what had happened, so Harry proceeded to ask her about her other two companions in the hope that she would stay calm.

"Our teacher is a dream walker, her name is Grace. The other is Tsu'tey, he is to be Olo'eyktan in future. He is also my intended, one day we will be mates before Eywa."

As she spoke her words became stranger and less understandable for Harry, but from what he could tell Neytiri was in an arranged marriage with the boy. Somehow from the look on Neytiri's face as she said this Harry could tell the girl wasn't happy with being forced to be his future mate.

From what Harry could tell about the girl so far he very much doubted she would take the unfairness of the situation lying down. Neytiri reminded Harry of himself at that age, forced to grow up too fast and expected to do a task that was seemingly impossible to do without dying first.

Only Neytiri wouldn't die physically like Harry, but emotionally and mentally.

Seeing that he was growing too close to the girl he had just meet Harry decided it was time to find her family and people, hopefully the four survivors would be safe among their own.

Shifting Neytiri off his lap Harry stood on his now numb legs, which were screaming at him for cutting off their circulation, and asked her how he could contact her family or get help.

"The warriors of our clan are on their way already. None of the children have returned to Home Tree, the clan will have gotten worried."

Neytiri seemed confident of her words, meaning they were probably true and that it was time for Harry to leave.

Harry looked like a human, the warriors would probably attack him on site once they saw the dead children outside. Looking at Neytiri and the three other creatures Harry felt a tug a his heart, then he felt a tug at his magic.

Jumping up slightly Harry told Neytiri that it was time for him to leave and that he didn't have much time left to talk with her.

With a slightly scared look on her young face the little girl lifted a single hand and stated solemnly,

"I see you."

It was the same feeling Harry got at the beginning of this journey when he knew he had to gather his precious belongings. He new he had to tell Neytiri the truth, even if he didn't understand it himself. Harry raised one hand solemnly and stated,

"I don't see you. Not yet Neytiri, but I will see you one day."

With that promise to the girl Harry's magic twirled around in his core cementing the vow. Harry knew it was foolish to make such promises, magical vows were serious and if he broke it Harry would die for it.

It was the right thing to do. Harry Potter wasn't a hero anymore, but he was a something and that something always tried to do the right thing. As Harry's magic once more transported him away, he couldn't help but wonder when he would meet the girl again.

He would meet Neytiri again, of this Harry was sure.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry wasn't very surprised with his surroundings once his magic finished tugging him towards his new destination. More accurately Harry would have to say that his current place of residence was very familiar and not at all new anymore.

Glancing at the once very smug Sorting Plant, which Harry had just randomly named a very appropriate name, Harry listlessly noted the plant's new disposition. With it's leaves now drooping very close to the ground and the color decorating the plant a shade duller, the Sorting Plant seemed almost as devastated as Harry himself.

The death and destruction Harry had just witnessed weighed heavily on his mind. The familiar sight of blood and bodies brought unwanted memories to the forefront of Harry's thoughts. Those children had all been murdered, killed in cold blood with no mercy, and Harry instead of coming to their rescue had instead taken his time stumbling through the forest. Once more he had failed, ruining any chance of saving those who deserved it more than anyone else.

Harry closed his mouth and bit his tongue to stop any curses from escaping it. It was all his fault that those children had died, if he had been half the hero that the everyone had told him he was he would have been able to save them.

'What about the girl, Sylwanin? And her little sister, Neytiri? Didn't you save them?'

The voice was almost non-existent in his mind, but Harry would recognize the soft and analytical tone anywhere. Only Hermione would question him like that when she thought he was being unusually dense. Arguing with a fictional voice in his mind was both dumb and foolish, not to mention insane considering the voice belonged to his long dead best-friend.

Harry knew better than to mess with forces that one couldn't see, Arthur Weasley taught him that in his second year of Hogwarts.

Pausing momentarily in his thoughts Harry glanced once more at the Sorting Plant. It seemed that the plant was somehow reading his thoughts, because right as he began to assume he had lost his mind the Sorting Plant seemed to scrunch up it's leaves and glare at him.

Very confused and hurt Harry lifted his sore body from the sprawl it had fallen into when he magically appeared in the clearing. Taking small shaky steps towards the Sorting Plant he began to yell at it as if it were a sentient being.

"What would you know you stupid flower! You haven't lived my life, or faced the death and horror that I have! You have no idea how much it hurts!"

He continued to scream at the plant for a good ten minutes before his voice finally gave out from overuse. Howling silent screams of pain and sobbing his eyes out Harry collapsed in front of the plant and curled up in it's roots, begging unconsciously for any kind of comfort.

Seemingly uncaring for the long lived man's anguish the Sorting plant remained unmoved by his small shaking form.

Feeling rejected by the seemingly sentient plant Harry lowered his blistered fingers to the ground. Attempting to raise his body from the ground Harry gasped in surprise when he was suddenly surrounded by thin see through vines attached to the Sorting Plant.

Lowering his body to the ground once more Harry began to calm down as he gazed in wonder at the small vines surrounding his form. They were tiny and clear as glass with small hairs covering them, they began to gently tickle him as they traveled across his face and shoulders.

Finally feeling the care and comfort he had been craving Harry laid his head back against the Sorting Plant to take a long rest.

As Harry fell into a deep sleep occasionally interrupted by nightmares of small bodies, he ignored the small rumbling in his stomach and the itching on his skin from the goo. Fast asleep Harry left his troubles behind him for the night, too devastated by the days events to even gaze at the glory of the forest in the night hours.

.

* * *

.

It was with great reluctance that Harry opened his eyes to the morning light. With small streams of light beaming through the foliage even the laziest of creatures would be hard pressed to remain asleep. Lifting his head from the Sorting Plant, Harry winced in pain as his neck cramped up from the uncomfortable position it had lain in the night before.

Laying his hands on the ground to push himself up into a standing position Harry gasped as he felt a sharp pain race through his fingers. Quickly lifting his hands from their downward position Harry gazed at his hands in grim understanding. Covered in cuts, blisters, and second degree burns it was no wonder Harry wasn't crying in agony.

The cuts were from the sharp leaves of the foliage he had pushed aside the day before in his attempt to rescue the children, the burns and blisters were from his pink purse. Glancing down at it Harry remembered the warning Hermione had given him when she gave him the purse, all the while ignoring his complaints about purses being for women.

"_Listen Harry! Whatever you do with this handbag-"_

"_Don't you mean purse Hermione? That's a purse! I'm not a girl Hermione!"_

"_OH! Shut up won't you, you great git! It's not important what you call it! Now whatever you do with this handbag-_"

_Hermione paused to glare at Harry before he could interrupt again._

"_-Never try to force it open understand? This bag is meant to protect precious items that you don't want anyone else to get their hands on. If it senses its being forced open the handbag will fight back. Do you understand Harry? Harry! What are you doing I just told you not to force-!"_

Hermione had sent several blue jays to peck at him for not listening to her explanation, completely ignoring Harry's exclamations stating that he had just been testing the "handbag".

Smiling softly with remembrance Harry slowly got up onto his feet without the aid of his hands to support him. Giggling at the slightly ticklish feeling he got from the still clinging tendrils of vine Harry turned towards the Sorting Plant.

Seeing the plant had a sort of saggy tint to its leaves Harry assumed that the plant was actually still asleep. Obviously the Sorting Plant was lazier than the other creatures surrounding it and probably more clingy during it's sleep as well.

Feeling a slightly kindred bond with the plant Harry gave the Sorting Plant a soft kiss on one of its leaves in farewell and turned to enter the forest once more in search of food and a river.

.

* * *

.

It was with great pride that Harry could say he had successfully navigated his way through the dense forest around him. Not only had he found a running stream big enough to bathe in, but he had also found some thick vines bearing strangely colored fruit on the trees decorating the edges of the stream as well!

Taking his irritated skin into account Harry decided that washing his skin and clothes would be the most logical thing to do first. Not to mention he had a feeling that if he put it off any longer his skin would develop a very nice rash in thanks,

Being very careful of his wounded fingers Harry carefully stripped out of his clothes and stepped toward the edge of the stream. While pondering the safest way to step into the water, mainly doing so without tripping backwards and busting his skull open, Harry failed to notice a rather mischievous root lying on the path he was taking.

Taking a step forward to test the waters temperature Harry squealed, denying he did so even as it was happening, with shock as he took a rather graceless dive into the "luckily" deep stream.

Popping his head above the water Harry started a rather common mantra among stream bathers.

"COLD! Cold, cold, cold, coooold!"

With his teeth now chattering at a speed equal to that of a woodpeckers Harry could safely say that he now hated the surrounding plant life. It was rather obvious to him that all of the plants in the forest were out to make his life as miserable as possible.

Deciding to put his formulating plans to punish his surroundings aside for the moment Harry started to concentrate on his bath. The stream was actually becoming rather pleasant the more Harry grew accustomed to the temperature, not to mention the cold water was like a healing balm to his aching hands and fingers.

Glancing down to look at the appendages in question Harry was distracted immediately by the face looking at him from under the water.

'Is that me?'

The thought came unconsciously to the front of his mind. The face staring back at him was thin and pale, with left over tear trails and black tar remains it made Harry look like a victim of a Dementor. Even his eyes had the soulless quality of one who had been at the end of one of their loveless Kisses.

Reaching a shaky hand out to his reflection Harry stopped just short of touching it as he recalled another face that had once looked at him in the same fashion.

It had been an older man wronged by society, imprisoned for crimes he hadn't committed for more than a decade. That same man had loved Harry as family the entire time. Unaware of Harry's actions and decisions as he grew in a cold environment the man had only hoped for his happiness and the chance to be reunited with Harry, and to be given the opportunity to clear his name with his godson.

"Sirius."

A tear fell from Harry's right eye as he thought about his lost godfather. Even centuries after the fact Sirius' short interval in Harry's life still caused him to grieve over his murder. Killed by his blood cousin Bellatrix right in front of Harry, Sirius had been Harry's only hope of living with a real father, to have the man he looked up to as a father murdered in front of him Harry had been shattered emotionally.

He was still shattered. Time didn't heal all wounds just some of them, the others it numbed until something came along and peeled off the scab just so one could feel the pain again. The pain is just as fresh as the first time he felt it.

Scrubbing his forearms across his eyes Harry ignored the pain in his chest and the swelling of his eyes as he began to wash his body free of the filth that had accumulated upon it in the last day and a half.

Once his body was free of all dirt, tar, and other assorted nasty things Harry focused on his hands. While it had been marginally easy to ignore the pain of his cut and burned hands while he had been cleaning himself, it was a different story when he focused his attention on them. As Harry began to disinfect his wounds in the stream thus reopening some of his scabbed cuts and popping blisters he couldn't help the whimpers that left his mouth, more came out than he felt comfortable with.

Finally as clean and disinfected as he could get them Harry gently stepped out of the stream heading toward his pink purse. He had set it aside on some short grass so that it wouldn't accidentally fall in the river, which wouldn't have been a surprise considering his luck.

When it opened without protest this time Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief, he had enough burns on his hands to last him another four centuries thank you!

Pulling out everything in it and setting them gently on the grass surrounding him Harry first grabbed his miniature bag of clothes and cast a Finite Incantantem on it so he could get dressed.

Standing naked in the middle of a strange forest wasn't high on Harry's to-do-list. Not to mention he had done so once on a dare, Ron hadn't mentioned the forest they were in happened to be infested with centaurs. Once he had finished running for his life from insulted mystical horsemen Harry had proceeded to jinx his best guy friend into an outfit worthy of the Queen of England. The fact that Ron hadn't been able to take it off for three weeks even for the bathroom was beside the point.

While reminiscing the good old days Harry had been picking out his clothes. Stopping momentarily Harry smacked his hand against his forehead in frustration, regretting it the second a few of cuts opened for a third time.

"Shit! I forgot to grab some underwear!"


	9. Chapter 9

Sighing in regret Harry pondered his dismal packing skills as he decided to forego wearing his filthy underwear again, instead going commando.

'Like a real man mate!'

Chuckling quietly to himself Harry grinned at the very Ron like statement, he could imagine Ron clapping him on the back while puffing his chest out "man-like" as Hermione liked to call it. Shaking his head ruefully at his memories Harry carefully dressed in his signature pants and sweater.

After he pulled his sweater over his head he glanced down at his bare feet then at his ruined socks and shoes. Casting a quick scourgify on his shoes Harry proceeded to carefully pick up his socks and then lovingly clean them in the stream.

"_OH! Great mister Harry Potter! Dobby will always cherish these socks he will! He'll clean them everyday and take very good care of them you see, and when the great mister Potter comes to see Dobby again Dobby will make sure he has two great socks to give to the savior of the wizarding world!"_

With a small sparkle in his eyes Harry lifted his socks and proceeded to lay them on a fairly large stone to dry. The sparkle dimmed just slightly when the memory of a small headstone only visited by one small savior appeared in his mind. Harry would never forget the sacrifice of one brave and loving house-elf.

Turning from his socks Harry took small steps to his pink purse, making sure to avoid anymore mischievous roots. Sitting down Indian style Harry proceeded to rifle through it for the small potion kit he remembered Mrs. Weasley giving him at one point. Finally feeling the hard edges of a small rectangular object Harry pulled out a small white and blue colored box.

Opening the box and setting the Elder Wand aside for the moment Harry took stock of what he had in the kit.

'Burn and bruise healing pastes, a calming draught, skel-gro, murtlap essence, and a bit of felix felicis. Not a bad selection but not the biggest variety of potions either.'

Harry could just see Professor Snape sneering at his dismal collection of potions, then hear him snarling about useless dunderheads who had no right to even touch a caldron.

Taking care not to use too much of the burn and healing pastes he had Harry proceeded to lightly apply portions of them to the most serious areas in need of attention.

Afterwards he settled gently on a small root to let the potions do their work, feeling like the dunderhead Snape used to call him.

"What kind of idiot puts on his sweater knowing he still has injuries to tend to?" he mumbled to himself.

Silently cursing his thoughtlessness Harry resigned himself to wait there, after all he had also forgotten to pack bandages in his first aid kit.

Coughing in embarrassment Harry directed his attention away from his previous train of thought and onto the small purse laying innocently beside him on the log. There wasn't much in the "handbag" just a few sentimental items that Harry cherished with all his broken heart and some mildly useful things for if he was ever in a pinch.

Deciding to lay each item he had out in front of him on the ground so that he wouldn't get confused about what he had and didn't have Harry started to take inventory.

Since his first aid kit was already out he set that down first. Reaching into his purse Harry pulled out the empty vial that used to house his blood replenishing potion.

'I'm sure everything has some use so I'll be careful with this.'

Setting it down inside an empty space in his kit Harry then proceeded to pull out a Bezoar. Confused at first because he didn't remember putting one in the purse Harry paused in thought and tried to recall how it managed to get inside with everything else.

Suspicious but drawing a blank Harry chose to ignore how the Bezoar appeared in his purse for the moment and continue his inventory.

After setting the Bezoar down he pulled out a small pouch that was labeled Instant Darkness Powder. Pondering for a moment Harry recalled where he had found the powder and what it had been used for. During the invasion of Hogwarts the Deatheaters had thrown the powder in the air which had caused the immediate surroundings to turn a pitch black, they had then used The Hand of Glory to find their way as they attacked the school.

Later, after the attack was over and everyone had started to pull themselves together Harry had stumbled upon the body of a Deatheater. Beside the body had laid the exact same pouch that Harry was holding at the moment with the same amount of powder it had then. He had never used any of it, instead he kept it as a reminder that even his people were capable of great evils.

Laying the pouch beside the Bezoar Harry reached into the purse again and received his holly wand. It's smooth surface which had been recently polished was now lightly scratched. In his haste to replace his holly wand with the elder wand he had carelessly throne the wand into his purse, most likely it had hit the edge of his first aid kit and received the scratch as consequence.

Feeling his holly wand spark lightly in warning Harry assumed that it was warning him not to repeat such behaviors in the future. Staring down at his first wand as it lay lightly in his burnt hands Harry felt love and friendship well up inside his heart.

"I'm sorry old friend.", he whispered. "I didn't mean to damage and discard you like that, I was panicking and rushing to find a solution. Moody always said you should think with your head and not your heart, but I always seem to be doing the opposite. Please forgive me, for I am nothing but an old fool."

Finishing his small apology Harry proceeded to lightly run his index finger down the length of the wand to try and sooth it. As a feeling of forgiveness and love washed over him from his wand Harry smiled in relief and happiness, glad that his oldest friend wasn't upset with him.

As the years passed him by his holly wand had become a constant in his life. Though he had stopped using magic two centuries before he had never set his wand aside. He made time everyday to clean and talk to the wand, basically telling it about his day and how he was feeling at that particular moment. At first Harry hadn't received any answer from his wand and truthfully had never expected to, the first time the wand had washed it's emotions over him he had been shocked and clutched at his chest thinking he was having a heart attack. The entire time his holly wand had been filled with amusement and mischief, obviously that had been the intended affect the entire time.

At the present moment however feeling his holly wands love for him gave Harry a feeling of peace in his heart. It gave him the knowledge that something still cared about him, even if that something wasn't actually alive to other people it was alive to him and that's all that really mattered.

Giving his holly wand one last stroke Harry gently set it down next to everything else and pulled out something fuzzy.

Feeling his cheeks heat up Harry knew he was starting to blush in embarrassment. In his hand was a pink pygmy puff, and not just any pygmy puff but Arnold the pygmy puff.

Flushing with shame Harry held Arnold in his left hand while he covered his eyes with his right.

Ginny had given Arnold to Harry as a token of her affection when she confessed her feelings towards him. Harry had attempted to refuse the gift by stating that while they had dated and he did love her they were no longer together and his love was now completely platonic.

Ginny had nodded her head in agreement and acceptance, but stated she still loved him romantically and always would even if he never returned her feelings. After her loud speech she had refused to leave Harry alone until he accepted Arnold to show he acknowledged her feelings and understood how much he meant to her.

Though reluctant to accept such a girly animal Harry had none-the-less done so and attempted to smile while doing so. Mrs. Weasley had kept a framed photo on her mantel of the grimace that had escaped instead. Every year around Christmas Ron would point at the picture and walk around with the same mixed expression getting many laughs and jokes as a reward for his efforts.

Feeling his flush recede Harry gazed down at Arnold with a bit of grief upon his face and sadness in his green orbs.

When Ginny had been on her deathbed dying of Dragon fever at the old age of ninety-seven Harry had sat beside her with Arnold in his lap. Though flushed and sick Ginny had been coherent through her sickness and they had many polite conversations before she passed. On her last day Harry asked her why she never got married or had children of her own to love and cherish. Ginny had gazed at Arnold for a long while before she answered, she stated that her feelings for him had never changed or weakened. She loved him with all her heart and refused to have a family that he wasn't a part of. With her last breath Ginny had looked at Harry with a love so deep that Harry had wished with all his heart he could return.

She had died selflessly loving a broken man who couldn't return her feelings. After Ginny's death Harry had refused to look for romance or love, he felt that he didn't deserve love after making her go without it and a family. He knew she wouldn't want him to feel that way but he couldn't help it, she deserved more than he could give for loving him so much.

Willing the tears in his eyes to dry up Harry slowly placed Arnold on his shoulder keeping still for a moment to see if he would fall or not. Feeling Arnold snuggle up against his neck then settle down to nap Harry gently smoothed down his fur then let him be.

There were only a few things left in his purse after Arnold. There was his Invisibility cloak, the Resurrection Stone, the Elder Wand, the sword of Gryffindor, the photo album and flute that Hagrid had given him on his first Christmas at Hogwarts, a snitch that Luna had charmed to follow him, and some gillyweed.

Once everything was in front of him Harry made sure to memorize them all so he wouldn't forget what he had.

Satisfied with his inspection on his inventory Harry packed everything but the Elder wand, his sword, and Arnold away as carefully as possible.

Once he had finished packing Harry glanced down at his chest noticing that the pastes had finished their work and that it was safe to put his sweater back on. Lifting Arnold gently so as not to wake him Harry set him on the log beside him as he slide his sweater back on. Once his clothes were secure once more Harry placed Arnold back in the crook of his neck and charmed a small leash onto his neck so nothing could take off with him, like a bird or extremely brave cat. Deciding that the saying better safe than sorry would probably apply Harry also placed a strong protection charm on Arnold just in case.

Reassured Harry focused his attention on his sword and wand. Both needed something to house them that Harry could draw them from at a moments notice. Looking around for something suitable for transfiguration Harry set his sight on two sturdy looking rocks. Transfiguring one into a sheath for his sword and the other into a wand holster Harry decided that his spells should last for a few days before he needed to reapply them. Eventually he would have to make a homemade sheath and holster, but for now the ones in front of him would do.

Satisfied that he was now as prepared as he could be Harry sheathed his sword by his waist and holstered his wand to his right thigh.

Taking a deep breath of air to fortify himself with Harry felt his bladder shudder in agony. Scrunching his face in the typical "I have to use the restroom right now!" look Harry did the age old pee-pee dance as he looked for a suitable bush. Spotting several bushes Harry settled for the nearest one and awkwardly made his way to it.

Once he finished his business his stomach also decided to make itself known by clenching just hard enough to make Harry feel nauseous. Using his newly healed hands to clutch his gut Harry glanced at the fruits hanging on the vines he had spotted earlier. He wasn't sure if the were poisonous or not, and he didn't know any spells to check them with either.

At this point though he really felt like he didn't have any other choice. Striding over to a vine Harry picked the smallest fruit he saw, which was the same size as his hand and colored with a mixture of blue and purple. Taking a deep bite Harry chewed and swallowed quickly then waited to see if he had any adverse reaction to it.

When nothing happened after a few moments Harry cautiously began to finish the rest of the fruit and enjoy the strange flavor.

'It tastes like chicken? What a weird but wondrous place.'


	10. Chapter 10

After having his fill of fruit Harry walked to the stream and washed his hands of the mess he had made. Once his hands were clean once again Harry reached into his purse and retrieved the empty vial that had once held blood replenishing potion. Making sure to thoroughly rinse the vial he proceeded to fill it to the brim and drink fresh water until he was no longer thirsty. Filling the vial one last time Harry then conjured a cork to close of the lid and he replaced the glass full of water back into his purse.

Finished with tending to his needs Harry stood still for a moment to decide what his next course of action should be. If he stayed near the stream he could probably build a small shelter and learn more about wildlife around him thereby increasing his chances of survival. On the other hand if he continued to journey further he might discover where exactly he was, and why those blue animalistic creatures were being attacked and murdered.

Tense with indecision and warring emotions Harry looked into the stream at his reflection. He didn't look a day over eighteen, he looked the same as the day he defeated Voldemort. Still skinny with knobby knees and sharp elbows, his untamed hair just as wild as ever, even his eyes held the same haunted look as they did back then. He had done so much and seen so many things, but nothing seemed to effect his body at all. The only things he had accumulated over the years on his body were scars.

They were mild injuries with scars that should have faded with time, but not for him. It was like his body kept scars as a reminder that it should still function and keep him alive. Harry wondered sometimes about that, would his body stop working if his scars vanished?

Seeing the curiosity in his reflection Harry felt incensed anger fill his heart at the expression. What right did he have to treat death like it was unimportant? Like it wasn't a tragedy? By thinking like that he was making the deaths of those murdered children unimportant!

Breathing sharply in anger and frustration Harry came to a impulsive and resolute decision. He would make their deaths matter. Whoever killed them or had them killed was going to pay.

How? He didn't know yet. Why? Because there is no reason for murdering children and those who do should receive justice. Could he avenge them by himself?

Harry paused at this thought. Muggles were very advanced in this era with strange technology and destructive weapons. They were more ruthless than Harry could hope to be, and Harry had never killed before.

Harry sagged in defeat at this thought his passionate anger sizzling away in the face of cold logic. Harry was a defensive expert only, almost all of his battle spells were based on defensive maneuvers with a few offensive spells for small openings in battle.

In every battle Harry had been in his enemy had either accidentally killed themselves or been killed by someone else. The only time Harry had ever killed was in his second year of Hogwarts and that was a giant Basilisk intent on eating him.

Tears of frustration welled in his eyes as he realized his inability to do anything. Swinging his fists wildly at the air Harry accidentally jostled Arnold as he threw a frantic tantrum trying to hold in his sobs and tears.

Gasping for air as he tired himself out Harry's right arm fell limply to his side while his left gently picked up Arnold from where he was hanging and settled him back on his shoulder. Feeling Arnold whimper lightly in grief for him Harry gazed wearily at the small pygmy as the small being tried to make him feel better. As Arnold nuzzled his neck in comfort Harry stroked the pygmy's back gently.

Sighing in grief Harry gazed at the trees above him mourning silently for all the children he had seen dead before their time.

Rising from his musings Harry started to search the edges of the clearing for suitable dwellings, after all wondering aimlessly was useless. After searching for half an hour Harry found a rather large hollowed space under the roots of a giant tree. Only a ten minute walk from the stream were Harry knew food and water could be found, the only thing it needed was some coverage from the local wildlife and a barrier for the more violent of that wildlife.

Deciding that he could go ahead and place up a barrier Harry pulled his photo album out of his purse and placed it on a raised piece of earth. Focusing on the feeling of security and safety Harry let his magic flow as it wanted. Having never learned how to ward properly the best way Harry knew to do it was to let his magic figure it out for him through intent. Feeling his magic turn like a key to a lock Harry felt his magic start to ease down from where it had risen done with its task.

Stepping back and squinting his eyes lightly behind his glasses Harry saw a tiny ripple where his new barrier lay. Smiling slightly in pride Harry pondered on what he could use as a door. Setting Arnold down and resetting his leash to a piece of root Harry stroked him lightly before heading outside while continuing to think of his choices.

'Maybe a giant leaf? Bark?'

Laying his right index finger across his lips and holding his right elbow in his left hand Harry held himself in a thinking pose. Humming lightly in thought Harry's eyes gazed around his surroundings lazily. When his gaze landed on a large boulder Harry grinned in mirth at the thought of using a big rock as a door like a cave man. If he could grow facial hair he might just have grown a wild mane and used the rock for laughs.

Still grinning with mild humor Harry continued his survey of his surroundings. Just as he was about to come full circle Harry noticed something to the immediate left of his soon to be home.

It looked like a giant rose. It was big and red on a thick yet short vine, with huge and lethal looking thorns. With his recent experiences surrounding local wildlife Harry was very tempted to turn around and pretend he had never noticed the amazing sight. There was just one problem, the rose had a perfect petal to use for his door. One of the rose's petals had two straight tears almost evenly spaced apart, perfect for going in and out of his new den.

"I must be insane.", he whispered to himself.

Taking the Elder wand from its holster Harry grasped it tightly in his right hand as he cautiously stepped toward the flower. With each step he took toward the plant Harry felt more and more nervous, but like the foolish gryffindor he was he continued forward. As he reached the front of the rose he brazenly started to poke it with his left index finger, assuming that if it was going to attack him that annoying it now instead of when he was climbing it would be a better idea.

When the rose seemed completely indifferent to his childish movements Harry sighed in relief. Glad that the rose was seemingly peaceful Harry paused before his climbing could begin. Thinking for a moment Harry decided to ask before taking, after all he wouldn't like some creature climbing on him without asking and pulling out one of his fingernails.

As Harry cleared his throat slightly in embarrassment to ask the plant for a favor he couldn't help but feel a little foolish. What were the chances he would meet not one but two sentient beings in just two days?

"E-excuse me..Ms. Rose? Eh, I was just wondering if I might have your ripped petal? Its just that your petal is the perfect size and shape for my new door, and I thought it would be much more suitable than a piece of bark or rock for protection."

As Harry finished his speech he figured that some ego stroking couldn't hurt anything, and if the rose's bright red coloring was any indication then it was probably somewhat vain. Just as Harry was finishing his train of thought he was shocked for the first time that day.

Some of the surrounding vines in the area suddenly became mobile and quickly twisted around him to hold him still as they lifted him toward the rose. As this was happening Harry had been slightly gagged by one of the thicker vines covering his mouth and he was unable to move his wand seeing as he had dropped it in surprise when he had been grabbed.

Struggling as much as he could Harry strained his muscles against his restraints trying to loosen them slightly so that he could get away. When that produced no effect he just relaxed his body and tried to prepare for whatever was going to happen. Just as he finished struggling the vines finished their journey to the top of the rose.

Right in front of Harry was the ripped petal and behind that petal in the center of the flower was a pool of nectar. The vines held him still for several minutes as the rose started to shake violently. It was twisting to and fro like it was dancing really, it was actually a very beautiful sight. As Harry stared in wonder at the sight in front of him the rose suddenly stopped and the ripped petal he had asked it for started to float towards the ground gently. As his eyes widened in shock at the plants actions his body stiffened in surprise when the vines pulled him further toward the rose instead of back to the ground.

As the vines moved him closer towards the pool of nectar Harry expected to be dropped at any moment, much like a fly for a Venus fly trap. Instead just before his feet could meet the pool the vines paused again. One lone vine with a rather large leaf upon it descended before his face and lightly stroked his cheek in an almost affectionate gesture. Feeling almost numb with shock and wonder at this point Harry just let the plant do what it wanted with no fuss

As the leafy vine pulled away from him the thick vine covering his mouth shifted slightly so that his mouth was now uncovered and gapping. Closing his mouth in mortification and embarrassment of his situation Harry continued to stare at the leafy vine as it danced slowly toward the nectar. Dipping gracefully under the liquid the vine pulled back carefully its large leaf full of nectar. As the vine came back towards him Harry had a pretty good idea where this was leading now and clamped his jaws together as tightly as he could, not trusting what the liquid would do to his body.

When the leaf finally reached him it seemed to notice his reluctance. As the vines surrounding Harry seemed to shake with what seemed to be a bit of annoyance and displeasure the leaf bumped lightly against his lips insistently. Still refusing to open his mouth Harry wasn't prepared when one of the smaller vines slipped under his sweater and stroked the middle of his spine. Gasping at the ticklish sensation Harry was unable to stop the nectar from entering his mouth and from spitting it back out when he was gagged once more.

As the nectar laid in his mouth Harry refused to swallow and breathed through his nose, noting at the same time that the nectar was like a syrup thick and sweet. Once more the plant noticed his attempts to refuse the liquid and this time it used another vine to close off his nostrils depriving him of air.

Unable to breath now Harry had no choice but to swallow the nectar and hope for the best. As the pleasantly thick and sweet liquid flowed down his throat Harry waited in fear for something unpleasant to occur. At first nothing seemed to happen, but as the vines covering his nose shifted away once more Harry could feel a burning sensation building up in his lungs and chest. As it spread rapidly up his throat the burning feeling grew worse and Harry opened his mouth in an attempt to scream in pain only to fail with the gag still covering his mouth.

Crying in silent pain Harry felt his throat shift in an unnatural way as it seemed to be adjusting to something. Harry's magic seemed to like the change the liquid was producing and decided to numb his throat for him so that he couldn't feel anymore pain. Relieved but confused as his magic helped Harry pondered on its actions. It had never relieved him of pain before, in fact Harry had thought it couldn't. The only time his magic had worked for itself was to purify alien substances from his body in a speedy fashion. It was strange to Harry that it was doing the seemingly opposite at the moment.

Confused but resigned to whatever was happening Harry sighed in relief as the vines lowered him gently back down to the ground, settling him down beside the ripped petal he had asked for. Standing on shaking legs Harry tried to brush off his strange experience and crouched down to pick his wand up from where he had dropped it. Gripping the Elder wand tightly Harry contemplated setting the rose on fire in retaliation. As he glanced over at it the rose seemed to sense his thoughts as it shook in undisguised warning.

Getting the message Harry turned from the plant deciding he wouldn't have set it on fire anyway because he didn't seem to be dieing, not because he was afraid or something like that. Rubbing his numb throat with his left hand Harry cast a silent levitation charm on the rose petal and slowly made his way back to his den.

Once his new door was secure Harry got to work on the inside of his home. Finding some loose wood around the area Harry started to pile it together while doing the same thing for rocks and leafs he found. Arnold squeaked in unrepressed pleasure at the small leafy bed Harry transfigured for him while spinning in dizzying circles to make it more comfortable.

Peering down at the pygmy's ruffled bed Harry came to the conclusion that maybe his little friend was weird. Seeing Arnold start to do little tumbles he revised his thoughts to include broken and senile. After all the small pygmy was as old as he was, maybe his inbuilt charms where acting up?

Cracking a slight smile as Arnold seemingly forgot about his new bed to snuggle against him on his newly transfigured grass/couch Harry decided that he was grateful. Of all the mass produced pygmys that the Weasley twins had produced Harry had received the one that had the most unique and endearing personality traits. Faulty charms or not Arnold was the only companion Harry wanted anymore, after all charmed toys could not die and leave him.


End file.
